


A Night to Remember

by KatieK101



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M, Gatherings, Impatient ThunderClan!, Jealous Ferncloud!, Oblivious Dustpelt!, Romance, What Are They Waiting For???, Why Won't They Just Get Together?!, Wingman Brightheart!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 12:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieK101/pseuds/KatieK101
Summary: Fernpaw knows that she's just a naive, clumsy apprentice. She also knows that Dustpelt is a strong, fierce warrior who deserves someone much more than her. But she can't just stand idly to the side while that RiverClan warrior flirts with her tom! (one-shot)





	A Night to Remember

"I don't recognize her," Fernpaw breathed, careful to keep her voice low. "Do you?"

Brightheart frowned, her one blue eye narrowed in thought. "Um… maybe. Not personally, but I've seen her on patrols before, and she might have been at the last Gathering. I think her name is Shadepelt."

Shadepelt, Fernpaw's thoughts' echoed. Her name sounded familiar. Maybe she had partook in the battle with BloodClan? Fernpaw thought she could remember someone yowling her name, but was wasn't quite sure…

Frivolous details didn't really matter, anyway. No, what mattered was that the RiverClan she-cat was standing just a few fox-lengths away, seemingly captivated in a conversation with Dustpelt.

Oh, Dustpelt, Fernpaw thought longingly. Why, why of all cats does she have to be talking to him?

Dustpelt was a temperamental ThunderClan warrior, who just-so-happened to be Ashpaw's mentor, who also just-so-happened to be her longtime crush; maybe even the love of her life!

He was fierce, strong, and in Fernpaw's humble opinion, devastatingly handsome. Of course Shadepelt was talking to him.

Perhaps what most concerned her was that Dustpelt was talking back to her. Dustpelt could play nice when he was required to, but for the most part he was suspicious of the other Clans and didn't typically go out of his way to speak to them, even at Gatherings. But right now he was smiling, nodding his head at something she was saying, and overall enjoying himself.

Shadepelt said something and he laughed. Fernpaw's heart clenched painfully in her chest.

"She's pretty," Fernpaw remarked, fighting to keep her voice steady and deprived of any bitterness.

Brightheart glanced at her. "You're pretty too," she reminded her.

The gray she-cat shrugged. "It's not the same thing, though. Shadepelt is a mature warrior and she looks like it. She doesn't look like… like a naive, clumsy apprentice."

"You're not naive!" Brightheart protested. Clumsy, however… well, that one might have a bit of truth behind it.

"But I look like I am," Fernpaw argued. "Ashpaw says I look too innocent."

Brightheart was silent for a few moments, and then she murmured, "Appearance isn't everything."

Realization struck Fernpaw immediately, and guilt was soon to follow. "Of course it isn't," she meowed hurriedly. "I know it isn't! It's just- not every cat looks past your appearance- not you specifically, Brightheart, I just mean-"

"It's fine," Brightheart soothed her. She offered her former denmate a reassuring smile. "I know what you mean. And you're right - to some cats, appearance is all that matters. But Dustpelt isn't so vain."

Her words did little to comfort the gray apprentice. "I know he isn't, but still… why would someone like Dustpelt ever look twice at someone like me?" The words hurt to speak, but they were even more painful out in the open.

"Because you're a wonderful she-cat!" Brightheart practically exclaimed, earning herself a few strange glances from mingling cats. "You're intelligent, compassionate, dependable."

Fernpaw purred softly and playfully shouldered her friend, mindful of her still-sensitive wounds. "Stop that. You're embarrassing me."

"You deserve to hear it," she replied strongly, before dissolving into laughter. She did that a lot now, which Fernpaw completely credited her foster-brother, Cloudtail, for.

Actually… "Hey, where's Cloudtail?" Fernpaw asked. "I haven't seen him since we got here!"

"He's over there," Brightheart replied, flicking her tail towards the tom in question. Cloudtail looked like he was sharing a story with some of the younger WindClan warriors, but almost as if he sensed his friends' gazes, he glanced towards them. Upon noticing Brightheart in particular he grinned, as if he'd just been made a warrior. Brightheart's smile was practically identical.

"You two are so cute," Fernpaw sighed happily. "When are you going to finally become mates?"

Brightheart's face flushed and she turned away from her crush, flustered by the question. "Whenever he asks me," she murmured softly. "I wish he would hurry up, though. As much as I enjoy just being a warrior, I… I'm ready to make things official between us."

Fernpaw shot her friend a coy smirk. "You know, you could always ask him."

"I could not! Cloudtail is the tom; the tom always asks the she-cat!"

"Who says?" Fernpaw challenged. "I don't recall that being part of the Warrior Code."

Brightheart rolled her one blue eye. "You are such a hypocrite; encouraging me to make things official with Cloudtail, when you won't even approach Dustpelt."

"That's just low," Fernpaw grumbled. "It's different for you; you know Cloudtail is crazy about you. Dustpelt probably thinks I'm just another silly apprentice."

As she spoke, her gaze drifted towards the dark brown warrior. Much to her annoyance, he was still conversing with Shadepelt. Only, she was standing much closer to him than Fernpaw remembered. The RiverClan she-cat was practically whispering in his ear, and even more discouraging was the fact that Dustpelt wasn't shoving her away…

It sparked something within Fernpaw's chest. The gray she-cat tried to squish the spark, but it stubbornly insisted on burning, slowly growing warmer and warmer…

Meanwhile Brightheart was fighting her own internal battle. The urge to tackle Fernpaw and knock some sense into her head was very, very tempting. It was an urge that the majority of the Clan was faced with, although occasionally it was Dustpelt that they wanted to tackle.

Everyone in ThunderClan knew that Dustpelt and Fernpaw were absolutely crazy about each other. 

Everyone, that is, except for Dustpelt and Fernpaw.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Fernpaw asked, a sad note of longing in her tone.

"I don't know. Why don't you go find out?"

Fernpaw shot her a look. "Don't be mouse-brained; I can't do that!"

"Why not?" Brightheart challenged. "Dustpelt is your Clanmate, and you have every right to talk to him!"

"He doesn't want to talk to me."

She scoffed. "Fernpaw, the tom hangs on to your every word. Trust me, if you talk, he'll listen."

Fernpaw simply shrugged in response. She wasn't typically a shy cat; not as open or out-going as some of her Clanmates, but she was sociable. Others were drawn to her amble and compassionate nature. There was just something about her that made her seem so trusting; like you could approach her with anything, and she would do everything in her power to help you.

Dustpelt was a lucky tom. Or, at least, he would be, if only he would confess his feelings for her.

It was a very irritating predicament for those who had a brain larger than an acorn.

Brightheart was silent in thought for a moment, and then her blue eye brightened. "Well, for what it's worth," she began, nonchalant, "I think you should go talk to him. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to reign Cloudtail in; he looks ready to tackle Onewhisker."

Fernpaw blinked her wide, leaf-green eyes. "You're ditching me?"

"Go talk to some of the other Clans," Brightheart suggested.

"I'm one of the only apprentices here tonight," Fernpaw cried. "The only others are some ShadowClan apprentices, and I'm not about to go talk to them; some of them are almost bigger than me, and I'm older!"

"Well," Brightheart drawled, "you could always go talk to another one of your Clanmates. Specifically, a dark brown warrior with amber eyes and-"

"I can take a hint, thanks," Fernpaw meowed dryly. "Go ahead and talk to Cloudtail; I'll go introduce myself to those ShadowClan apprentices. Maybe they'll tell me how Tawnypaw is faring."

"Suit yourself," Brightheart meowed cheerily. "Just remember: you never catch a mouse if you don't pounce." And with those wise parting words, the white-and-ginger warrior disappeared into the throng of cats. Fernpaw watched her for a moment before looking back at Dustpelt.

He's so perfect, she couldn't help but think as she stared at the warrior. A bit shorter than some of his Clanmates, but more muscular than most of them. He was temperamental, sure, but he was also incredibly loyal. He wasn't easily impressed, but that just meant that his praise actually meant something.

Stubborn, but proud.

Suspicious, but protective.

Brash, but brave.

And to Fernpaw, he was even more. She had seen a side of him that very few were allowed to see; he could be kind, gentle. He could be playful. He could be sweet.

He was so much, how could Fernpaw ever be enough to deserve him?

The gray she-cat sighed, stood to her paws, and reluctantly made her way towards the ShadowClan apprentices. She was just nearing the group when she glanced back to Dustpelt, and her heart nearly stopped beating.

Shadepelt was pressed close to Dustpelt's side, laughing softly in his ear, blue eyes gleaming in the night. She was smirking coyly, like she knew something.

Realization struck Fernpaw like lightning: she was flirting with him!

She was a pretty RiverClan she-cat and she looked like a mature warrior and she was flirting with Dustpelt; her tom!

The spark that had been lit in her chest suddenly burst into a fire, and without even thinking, Fernpaw stormed towards the two warriors. The scowl on her pretty face was a rare sight to behold, and those who knew her were stunned (that is, until they saw where she was heading; they all knew it was just a matter of time until something set the gentle apprentice off).

Social eddiciate whispered in Fernpaw's ear and reminded her not to make a scene, so at the last moment she schooled her scowl into a forced-but-polite smile.

"Hey Dustpelt," she meowed brightly (or at least, as brightly as she could manage). "Who's this?"

Shadepelt turned to face the apprentice, a puzzled expression set upon her features, but Fernpaw hardly even noticed; as soon as Dustpelt saw her his amber eyes brightened, and suddenly Fernpaw's smile was anything but forced.

"Uh, Fernpaw, this is Shadepelt," Dustpelt meowed, taking a step away from the RiverClan warrior, much to Fernpaw's delight. "Shadepelt, this is-"

"Fernpaw," Shadepelt finished, smiling faintly. "You look exactly like Dustpelt described you."

That caught her attention. Fernpaw blinked, interest peaked. Glancing from Shadepelt to Dustpelt (who suddenly looked like a cornered mouse), she asked, "You were talking about me?"

Before Dustpelt could say anything, Shadepelt nodded. "He was telling me about how you and your brother helped lead a pack of dogs away from your camp."

A smile lit Fernpaw's face. "You were?" she asked the tom.

Relief seemed to weigh the tom's shoulders. "Of course I was," he meowed, a bit too quickly. "It's an impressive story."

"Very impressive," Shadepelt added. "I know a few warriors who wouldn't have been up to the task."

Fernpaw nodded at Shadepelt, thanking her, but it was clear that her attention was completely focused on Dustpelt. "It wasn't that impressive," she meowed, green eyes trained on the tom. "I had to do it for Brindleface."

"You helped save an entire Clan," Dustpelt countered. "Shadepelt's right; there are warriors who don't have even half your courage."

Fernpaw considered protesting; she hadn't been courageous. Grief for her mother had spurred her on, along with fury towards Tigerstar and a kind of determination that made her fearless. But Dustpelt wasn't one to throw around praise, so she took the opportunity to soak up his words.

"Well, thank you," she eventually shrugged modestly. "That means a lot coming from you." And it did; it meant more than Dustpelt would ever know.

Suddenly a yowl rang through the air, and Fernpaw glanced at Fourtrees just in time to witness Leopardstar scale her branch. The Gathering had begun.

"It's starting," Shadepelt breathed. She glanced at the ThunderClan cats. "I would invite you to sit with me, but," she gazed knowingly at Dustpelt.

"I think we'll sit back here," Dustpelt told her, and Fernpaw's smile became impossibly brighter. He wants me to sit with him! I can't wait to tell Brightheart! Although, it was curious that Dustpelt wanted to stay to the back of the crowd. As a respected warrior he could have sat much closer to the front.

Shadepelt nodded. "I thought as much. It was nice meeting you, Fernpaw." Despite the polite words, there was a certain coolness about her tone that made Fernpaw wonder how genuine they were. And… was that a hint of jealousy in her dark blue eyes?

"Likewise," Fernpaw murmured.

"May StarClan light your paths," the pretty RiverClan warrior uttered, before turning and disappearing into the throng of cats. Fernpaw watched her leave for a few moments, then turned to look at Dustpelt.

"We can sit closer to the front if you'd like?" she suggested, though inwardly, she didn't mind sitting so far back with the handsome warrior. More privacy, less prying eyes…

So she was secretly pleased when Dustpelt shook his head and said, "No, I'm fine here. None of the leaders will report anything interesting, anyway.” He deepened his voice and mimicked, “Prey is running well; twolegs are keeping their distance; ShadowClan are blood-thirsty ready to fight anyone who challenges them; the like," he rolled his amber eyes.

"That's a very impressive impression," Fernpaw teased, as she settled. "Blackstar would have your pelt for that."

"I think he would appreciate the accuracy," Dustpelt retorted. His voice was dry, but his eyes were alight with a playfulness that made Fernpaw smile.

As the dark brown warrior settled beside her, Fernpaw couldn't help but wrinkle her nose. "You smell like fish," she told him.

Dustpelt blinked, then he rolled his eyes again; more aggressively this time. "Shadepelt," he grumbled underneath his breath. 

He began grooming his pelt, but Fernpaw, who was still elated by the fact that Dustpelt wanted to sit with her, stopped him and said, "Here, let me."

The ThunderClan tom seemed caught off guard for a moment, before he shrugged and said, "Fine. Good to know you think so highly of my grooming skills."

"Hush," Fernpaw purred, before setting to work. Starting at his shoulder, she smoothed her tongue over his neck and spine, stopped at his hip, and then went back to his shoulder. Perhaps she really didn't think the most of Dustpelt's grooming skills, or perhaps she was determined to remove any traces of Shadepelt.

Speaking of… "Shadepelt was nice," Fernpaw remarked. "You two are friends?"

Dustpelt laid his head on his paws, eyes trained on Leopardstar as she delivered her report. "Something like that. We get along, at least, which is more than I can say for the majority of her fish-brained Clan."

"Mhm. You two seemed very friendly. Better hope Firestar didn't catch her laying all over you."

When Dustpelt shot her a sharp look the she-cat smiled brightly. "Don't look at me like that; I'm just looking out for you!"

"I'm not afraid of Firestar," Dustpelt muttered. "Besides, she wasn't "laying all over" me."

"She absolutely was."

"She absolutely was not."

"Dustpelt," Fernpaw started, exasperated. "She was leaning on you, whispering in your ear-"

"Don't tell me you're jealous, Fernpaw."

The green-eyed she-cat cried shrilly, "Of course not!" It was a lie, obviously.

"Oh yeah?" Dustpelt retorted. "I don't believe you."

The tips of her ears burned with embarrassment, and she could feel the flush that crept onto her cheeks. Desperate to have the upper-paw, Fernpaw demanded, "You weren't just telling her about the dogs, were you?"

Something flashed in those amber eyes, but it was gone just as suddenly as it appeared. "What else would I have been talking about?" Dustpelt asked cooly. He was practically daring her to challenge him.

Fernpaw did a creditable job of defending herself, considering her heart felt ready to burst out of her chest. "The dogs might have been mentioned, but… you weren't focused on them; you were focused on me."

Dustpelt held her gaze evenly for a few heartbeats that felt like an eternity, and during those few heartbeats, Fernpaw nearly exploded and confessed everything to the tom. But just as the words pressed her teeth, Dustpelt suddenly shrugged and returned his attention to the leaders.

"So."

Fernpaw blinked.

"So?" She echoed. "So… so what? You're not going to deny it?"

Another shrug. "No."

Fernpaw wished she wasn't so confused. She would have loved to relish in the fact that Dustpelt was talking about her with someone, but she couldn't calm her racing heartbeat as hundreds of questions swirled around her head.

"So then…" Fernpaw trailed off, unsure, but desperate for some clarity, "why were you talking about me?"

When Dustpelt didn't immediately respond, she worried that he was just going to ignore her for the rest of her loveless life. Until finally he graced her with an answer: "Because Shadepelt asked me why I still hadn't taken on a mate."

Fury made Fernpaw's blood boil. Why that little- she was sniffing around my not-mate! Ugh, she's not even in the same Clan as Dustpelt! Why does she care- And then, as Fernpaw replayed his words in her head, her blood began to cool.

"Oh," she uttered, as she fought to keep a ridiculous smile from playing across her lips. There was no way this was going where she hoped it was. "And… what exactly do I have to do with that?"

Dustpelt still wasn't looking at her, but she thought he was suppressing his own grin. "Everything."

Her heart was beating rapidly against her chest, like a rabbit racing across the open moor. She could no longer keep that ridiculous, hopeful smile off her features. "Care to elaborate?" she asked, her voice coming out in a whisper.

The (devastatingly handsome) ThunderClan warrior shrugged, casual. "It's not wise to take an apprentice on as my mate, is it?" Her heart, which had been beating so rapidly she thought it might explode, screeched to a sudden halt. She might have forgotten how to breathe.

Dustpelt carried on, as if he hadn't noticed her reaction. "You've got your warrior training to focus on, and a mate would only distract you. Plus, it's a lot of pressure at such a young age. Furthermore, I might be tempted to give you unfair advantages; have Ashpaw go easy on you during battle training, help you catch your prey during your warrior assessments… things I'm already tempted to do now, that would be ten times worse if we were mates."

Fernpaw wondered how he could speak so casually whereas she was trying to remember how to breathe. It wasn't fair.

"You… want to be my mate?" she finally stammered, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing.

Dustpelt licked a paw. "Once you're a warrior, yes." Finally, finally he glanced at her, and Fernpaw noticed confusion clouded his amber eyes. "I figured that much was obvious?"

"Obvious?!" Fernpaw wanted to screech, although it came out as a flustered breath.

"It… wasn't?" Dustpelt asked, his features now screwed with confusion. "Really?"

"Of course not!" Fernpaw cried, earning herself a few harsh 'shh's from the cats in front of them. Her heart swelled when Dustpelt shot those cats a hard glare, and they promptly turned around again. Lowering her voice, she asked, "Did you think you were being obvious?"

"I thought everyone thought I was being obvious," Dustpelt replied, his tone carrying a defensive edge. "StarClan, have you not noticed the trouble they give me about you?" He rolled those amber eyes that she loved so much. "Graystripe tries shoving me into you during patrols; Longtail's constantly reminding me that you're his apprentice; Frostfur has been bugging me about how I'm going to formally ask you to be my mate, and Sandstorm-" he practically growled the name, "ugh, don't get me started on that fox-heart! I-" he stopped when he realized that Fernpaw was staring at him with a dumbstruck expression and wide green eyes.

"Oh… so I guess you haven't noticed any of that?" he asked, a bit sheepish.

Fernpaw could only shake her head. She was struggling to comprehend everything he was telling her, everything this meant. Dustpelt… liked her. He actually liked her!

"So you mean… you don't think I'm just another naive, clumsy apprentice?" she asked softly, almost scared that her words would jolt him back into reality.

Dustpelt blinked, caught off guard. "What? No! Except… okay, you might be a little clumsy, but Fernpaw…" he trailed off as he smiled at her; a real, genuine, heart-swelling smile, "you've never been just another apprentice. You've always been so much more than that."

As if to solidify his words, he leaned forward and placed a tender lick upon her forehead. "Mouse-brain," he added fondly.

Fernpaw couldn't contain her joy. She smiled, she purred, she went so far as to rub her head against the tom's shoulder - she knew she was probably making a scene but she didn't care. Dustpelt actually felt the same way she did!

It was that thought that gave her the confidence to murmur in his ear, "I love you."

Love… it was a loaded word that shouldn't be thrown around or spoken lightly. It was an emotion that some cats who were seasons older had yet to experience. Even if she was just a moon away from her warrior assessment, it was dubious that cats so young even knew what real, true love really felt like.

But Fernpaw did. She knew she did.

Because when she gazed into Dustpelt's amber orbs, she felt a flurry of emotions that couldn't be summed up by any other word. There was pride, loyalty, devotion, inspiration, joy, excitement; all of these emotions and more swirled around in her chest, coursed through her paws and flooded her mind every single time she looked at him.

She was in love with him, and nothing could convince her otherwise.

For a moment Dustpelt was absolutely still, as if he thought he hadn't heard her right, and then he gently nuzzled the side of her face. "I love you too," he whispered. "And I promise, the moment you're made a warrior, I'll be there, waiting."

Waiting… waiting for what, Fernpaw idly wondered, as her heart grew wings and soared. At that moment she didn't particularly care. Dustpelt was in love with her, and suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter.

Waiting for her signal that she was ready to make things official between them.

Waiting to share tongues with his wonderful mate in the center of camp, blissfully oblivious to their Clanmates' hushed gossip and thrilled whispers.

Waiting in their nest every night in the Warriors Den.

Waiting for Cinderpelt to burst out of the Nursery and announce that he was now the father of two new, perfect sons.

Waiting to fight with her, for her, and alongside her.

Waiting to share a future together, where every single sun-rise and sun-fall, Dustpelt could look at his perfect mate and wonder what he ever did to deserve such a blessing from StarClan.

Waiting, wondering, and forever thinking of that Gathering; the one where everything suddenly fell into place, when they both gained something that would always be worth fighting for, and the moment that their hearts started racing and then never slowed.

**Author's Note:**

> I published this on my FFN account awhile ago, and just remembered I could publish it here as well! The world NEEDS more Dustpelt/Ferncloud content. They could solve world peace. For realz.


End file.
